Great Plans
by Larilee
Summary: During a Seventh Year Potions class, Severus Snape begins thinking on a future. SSHG pairing.
1. Default Chapter

_**General Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Potterverse. I am not making money off this one-shot. In fact, I own very little and have no money, so suing me would be pretty pointless, wouldn't it?  
_

**Great Plans**

He purposely banged open the door to his classroom, just as he had for every class he had taught in the dungeons of Hogwarts. As he strode down the aisle and stepped up unto the dais that held his desk, he knew he presented a rather chilling figure to even these students who had spent seven years under his tutelage. Today was just another day, after all.

Stepping up to his lectern, he swept his gaze across the room. On his right, were his three Slytherin studentsDraco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Snape allowed a slight smile play on his lips.

He turned to the seats on his left side. Darius Rooks and Eugenia Kettle, two Ravenclaws sat waiting. He merely looked at them expressionlessly. Then, allowing a slight sneer to cross his lips, he turned to the two who sat in the front row. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Lived-And-Lived, glared up at him, his green eyes seeming larger behind his glasses. Next to him, Hermione Granger, the Brain of the Golden Trio merely looked expectantly at him, eager to begin, happy to learn.

"Open your books to page 493," he intoned, looking away. "I am certain if anyone besides our resident Know-It-All has read the assigned chapter, you will realize today we will begin brewing the Restful Restorative Draught. This potion is unique because it can be given to those who are grievously injured and why is that?"

Of course, Miss Granger's hand was in the air almost before he could finish asking the question. He chose to ignore her however and fortunately, for once, Draco had his hand raised.

"Mr. Malfoy," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head.

"Because it doesn't interact with any other potion?" Draco answered arrogantly and smugly.

Snape waited a moment, eyebrows raised, to see if Malfoy could actually give the complete answer which, of course, he couldn't. "Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin. And why does it not react with other potions?" he continued smoothly.

This time, no hand was raised and Miss Granger's head was bent over her book as if trying to find the answer. Silently, he moved down to stand in front of her desk and placed his palms on either side of the textbook. Leaning over her in his most intimidating manner, he watched her as she slowly raised her head to look at him.

"Miss Granger," he said in a low voice, "is there really a question you cannot answer? Why does this potion not react adversely to other potions?"

"Because it lacks poppies, Sir," she answered timidly, but he caught the gleam of triumph in her eyes. It had taken her nearly seven years to force him to allow her to answer a question, but she had finally done it.

He did allow a slight smile play on his lips. "Five points, Miss Granger," he said silkily and watched as she smiled back, "_from_ Gryffindor." Her smile faded, but he could nearly see her internal shrug. "You should have raised your hand if you knew the answer."

Turning back to go to his desk, he nearly missed the restraining hand she placed on Potter's wrist as the young man opened his mouth to protest that reasoning. She shook her head at her friend and Snape saw the word "no" forming on her lips.

"Five more points from Gryffindor for talking in class," he murmured, ignoring the smirks of his Slytherin students. Seating himself, he said, "The directions are on the board. You will work in teams on this."

As the students began filing to the supply stores, he barked, "Potter, you will team with Mr. Zabini on this potion." In his most condescending tone, he continued, "I am sure Miss Granger can do this potion by herself."

Hermione straightened her shoulders and gave Harry an apologetic look. Snape pulled the essays he had left to grade in front of him and uncapped his red ink. Bending over the scrolls, he watched her surreptitiously.

The past two years of his NEWT-level Potions class had been unexpectedly pleasant. Longbottom, Crabbe, Goyle, and Weasley had dropped Advanced Potions. He had been forced to take Potter in, but the young man was proving himself to be adequate. Snape thought that was due to the tutoring ability of a certain Miss Know-It-All rather than Potter's natural abilities.

Miss Hermione Granger. Unconsciously, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was an extremely intelligent student. One of those rare jewels in an instructor's career who wanted to learn and was glad to do it. She was also growing up to be a pretty woman.

Her hair was less bushy the longer it got, the weight probably pulling it down straighter. She was a little taller and much thinner than before. No one could accuse her of being a great beauty, but her looks were fair enough. Especially when her large brown eyes gleamed with excitement… or triumph as they had earlier. She had a very expressive face.

Snape looked around the classroom. Malfoy was letting his girlfriend do most of the work again. If only he had managed to get rid of that smug, toadying prat when the rest of his crew dropped out of Potions, Severus thought and realized he was grinding his teeth again.

Potter and Zabini were working together as much as they could without being near each other or speaking to each other. That could be an amusing spectacle. The two Ravenclaw students were harmoniously performing together as an efficient team. And by herself, Miss Granger toiled, a slight smile on her face as she added the first ingredient to her cauldron.

He bent his head back to the scrolls and watched her covertly. She was brilliant. She was pretty. And he suspected she was a more powerful witch than anyone suspected at this point.

There were other points he could consider. Hermione Granger was fiercely loyal to her friends. She understood logic and the benefits of hard work. She also, was the only one of the Golden Trio who understood the multi-faceted role he played day in and day out. Oh, certainly, she would bristle under his unfair comments and point system, but she understood the need to placate the children of Death Eaters.

Give her a few years and she would be a good match for any intelligent wizard. A few years to mature and blossom. A few years to take the stigma of student from her. So far, no male student saw her as more than a tutor. If Snape could manage to keep that an on-going practice with her, he would. What did she value more than companionship, he wondered. Well, learning obviously. And a thought came to him that would keep her safe at Hogwarts, away from the Dark Lord and under his protective custody.

The rest of the period droned on as the students worked in near silence. Finally, he looked up.

"You should be finishing step four by now," he said, letting everyone know that if you hadn't, the consequences would be severe. "Put the stasis spell on your cauldrons and move them to the shelves. We will finish this potion next class. Then clean up your workspace."

Healing potions, strengthening potions, weaponry… did no one understand they were actually preparing for the war that was inevitable. Almost unconsciously, he rubbed the sleeve covering his left forearm.

If she survived, if he survived, then he would give her time to finish growing up. Snape was confident in his powers of manipulation that he could play any positive feeling she had for him and turn it into something more. He didn't care she was Muggle-born, he dropped that nonsense years ago. She was an intelligent, powerful witch who was good-looking. Once she matured, she would make him a fine wife. All he had to do was wait and make sure they both survived.

The students were through cleaning up. Potter moved back to his regular seat next to Miss Granger. Snape glanced over the class again, looking for any infraction. Malfoy was lounging in his chair, a bored yet smug look on his face. Everyone else was looking at him expectantly.

"Two rolls of parchment on the difference between this draught and those that utilize poppies," he said. "Due next class." No one dared groan. "You are dismissed."

As the students began filing out, Snape called out, "Miss Granger, if you would remain."

He saw the look she and Potter exchanged before she motioned Potter on. Carrying her ridiculously overstuffed book bag, she returned to stand in front of his desk.

Snape waited until the door creaked closed. "Miss Granger, what are you plans after the NEWTS are over?" he asked smoothly.

"I'm not really sure yet, Sir," she said in an unexpected, timid candor. "I'm hoping to be taken on as an apprentice, but…"

He arched his eyebrow in silent question as he set his elbows on his desk and templed his fingers under his chin.

"You don't take apprentices," she finished in a rush.

"Miss Granger, do you realize the importance of the potions these classes are making?"

Hermione bit her lip for a moment, a habit he hoped age would cure. "Yes Sir, we're… we're preparing, Sir. Preparing…" her voice dropped, "for the war."

"Very good, Miss Granger," he replied calmly. "Should the Headmaster recommend you apprentice with me, I could hardly fight the suggestion."

Her eyes brightened and she held her breath for a moment. "Do you really think I could… I could become a Potions mistress, Sir?" she asked hopefully.

'And more,' he thought before speaking. "Yes, Miss Granger, I do. Though if you should repeat that, I shall be forced to deny it."

"Yes, Sir. I understand," she said, her eyes shining with exuberance. "Should I speak with Professor Dumbledore, Sir?"

"I shall suggest it to the Headmaster, Miss Granger," he replied. "You should know though, I have plans for you."

"Thank you, Professor Snape!" she said exuberantly. "I promise, I won't let you down."

"Very well, Miss Granger. I shall hold you to that. You may leave." He watched her depart as he twirled a quill in one hand.

'Yes, plans,' he thought. His mind conjured images of them, together, working over a cauldron. Then later, returning to their quarters, reading over Potions texts and _Ars Alchemica_ before retiring to their marriage bed. And if she wasn't a particular lusty female, well, there were potions for that.

Hermione Granger was remarkably easy to manipulate with her love of learning. All it would take was safeguarding her for a few more years.

If they both survived, that is.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he whispered to the closing door. "I have great plans for you."

end chapter one

_**Author's Note:** This is a first. It's my first trip on the Good Ship HG/SS and it's my first story that's not an NC-17. My muse is happy and hasn't killed any plot bunnies. Life is good.Remember, if you read, it's nice to review. If not here, then review someone else's work. Make it worthwhile for us who are forced to write by psychotic muses and scared plot bunnies. This story is completed in eight chapters and will be posted regularly._


	2. Protecting Her

**Protecting Her**_**General Disclaimer:** Yeah, like I'm really J. K. Rowling… If you believe that, then you belong in St. Mungo's, not I. "Get away from me, Gilderoy! If I wanted your damned autograph, I'd ask for it!" _

LL

"You don't want to die a virgin, do you?" Ron asked, pressing wet lips against her neck. His hands were reaching under her white uniform shirt to caress her breasts through her white cotton bra.

Considering the circumstances, she should be thinking of something besides how hard the wall was behind her, shouldn't she? Hermione only felt uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. She kept waiting for the moment her brain would shut off and her body would take over, but it never came.

Instead, Ron kept grinding against her thigh so hard she wondered if she would be bruised in the morning and one stone kept poking her in the back.

"Ron, stop it!" she squealed as he bit her neck. "What are you? A bloody vampire bat?" She shoved him away and rubbed her neck. With revulsion, she felt her neck wet with his saliva.

"Come on, 'Mione," he wheedled, trying to push against her again. "What's the matter? You know what the Death Eaters will do to you if you're ever caught? And you and I are high on their hit list because we're close to Harry. Don't you want your first time with someone you love?"

"Do you mean someone who will use coercion to try to force himself on a woman?" a silky voice asked from the darkness of the hallway. Ron swore under his breath and Hermione felt her disgust at Ron melt into the shame of being caught. And of being caught by all people, Professor Snape.

Hermione shoved Ron further from her, trying to tuck in her blouse and pull down her jumper at the same time. Ron swore under his breath for a second time as Professor Snape entered the third floor alcove.

He stood in the darkness, looking down on them for a moment as if considering his options. "Your cloaking charm on this alcove was… _almost _efficient. Had I not been patrolling these hallways for years, I might have walked by. It was yours, was it not, Miss Granger?" Snape asked in a low tone.

When she nodded, he snapped out, "Speak aloud, you silly girl. I do not want to hear your head rattle!"

"Yes, Sir," she muttered, looking down at her scuffed shoes. "It was mine."

"Much better, Miss Granger," he replied smoothly, his voice dropping. "Mr. Weasley, for your future reference, rather than trying to frighten a woman into your bed, you might want to impress her instead with your heroics." At Ron's blank look, Snape sneered.

"I should have known you lacked the intellectual capabilities to understand that." Snape stood in front of Ron. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Snape barked at him, "Leave now or I will make it forty!" he spat out. "And if you were in Slytherin, I would make it fifty for such a clumsy, heavy-handed seduction attempt."

"Hermione?" Ron questioned as he took a step to the hallway.

"Oh, Miss Granger is staying," Snape's voice caressed the dark night. "I have a few words for our… Head Girl."

The derision forced into those two words caused Hermione's cheeks to grow hot with embarrassment. 'Why did I agree to meet Ron tonight?' she wondered. 'Will I lose my apprenticeship? Will I have to give up my Head Girl badge? Surely they can't expel me?' Then she realized, with Professor Snape, expulsion was still a possibility. What would happen then?

"Take this," he said in a low voice, close enough she could feel his breath on her cheek. A piece of linen was pressed into her hand and she realized it was a handkerchief.

'Is he going to make me cry?' she speculated.

"Wipe your neck, Miss Granger," he hissed. "The boy… drooled all over it. Just like he has been drooling over you for weeks."

"Oh," she said weakly, having a strange feeling of unreality about this entire scenario. She blotted her nape while waiting for his diatribe to begin.

"_Lumos_," he murmured and held it close to her shoulder, before snorting in derision. "And he has called me a vampire bat," he muttered as he bent down to inspect her neck. "Perhaps someone should inform Mr. Weasley that the presence of teeth marks in a 'love bite' are not required."

He looked up into her eyes and she was suddenly very much aware of him, not as a professor, but as a man. "Unless you… enjoy pain, Miss Granger?" he suggested icily.

"No," she muttered, feeling more ashamed and closer to tears than before. "I just wanted…" she broke off realizing she, for once, had no words to describe what she wanted. So she stood in embarrassed silence as he stood again to full height.

Reaching into a pocket of his voluminous robes, he withdrew a jar of salve, still managing to keep his wand raised to the level of her shoulder. Holding both the wand and jar in his right hand, he took his left hand and gently brushed her hair away from the nape. His fingers barely brushing the delicate skin, but she felt electricity down to her toes and her breath caught in her throat. Luckily, Professor Snape didn't seem to catch that reaction.

"This will not hurt," he informed her as he took the lid off the jar. She held out her hand to hold it for him. It was surely her imagination that his long fingers caressed her hand for a moment as he deposited the lid into her open palm.

"You should consider this, Miss Granger," he murmured, bending back down, level with her face. "That we are doing our best to keep you safe, so you will not fall into the hands of the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord." She gasped as the cold gel touched her skin. His fingers rubbed it in lightly.

"Should our endeavors fail," he continued in his low voice as he placed his fingers back into the jar, slowly coating the pads of his index and middle finger with more balm. "We shall strive to rescue you as quickly as possible."

She nodded as she nervously bit her lip. "I know… I know that, Sir. I have faith in you."

The light from his wand was dim, but she thought he gave a small, mocking smile as he paused. "You do not believe I am working for my own ends then?" he questioned, silkily.

"No, Professor Snape," she replied and placed her hand over his wrist. "I trust you."

"Indeed," he murmured and moved his hand to re-apply another coating of healing unguent on her throat. "The lid, please?"

Hermione handed it back to him. "I know you would do your best to protect me." Then, giving a rueful smile, she added, "You always have. Even when we didn't know you were doing it."

Slipping the jar back into his pocked, he gave her a long look. "As embarrassing as this question is to ask and to have answered, is Mr. Weasley correct in assuming you are a virgin?"

'A verbal response surely isn't necessary,' Hermione thought as she blushed deeply and looked at the floor, but she spoke it in a whisper anyway, "Yes, Sir. I am."

Professor Snape put his hand to her chin and tilted her head up, but instead of looking into her eyes, he stared at her neck again and moved his wand up to it and began murmuring a healing spell. When he finished, he looked into her eyes and in the darkness of the alcove, she couldn't distinguish his pupils from his irises… both were totally black and unfathomable.

"Miss Granger," he said in a low, deep voice. "You are adult enough that I am sure you have heard what goes on at the Dark Revels." Apparently, he took the look in her eyes as an answer.

"Virgin blood is especially precious. You realize what potions utilize it." She tried to nod, but his fingers were still on her chin. "As the Dark Lord's most trusted and skilled Potions master, I am in charge of making sure all the Dark Rituals are met in… _harvesting _this ingredient."

Hermione gasped.

"If you are ever captured, your virginity may save you," he informed her. "It will at least put you closer to me, so that _I_ may save you. Do you understand?" His hand gently caressed her chin before he removed it.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

"I would advise you to leave boys like Mr. Weasley alone for now," Snape responded. "A man who would use fear to coerce you is not a man at all. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then return my handkerchief and return to your dormitory," he replied in his usual icy manner. When she hesitated, he asked irritably, "What now, Miss Granger?"

She placed his handkerchief in his hand. "Thank you, Professor Snape," she said, a trifle breathlessly. "But aren't you going to take points off me?"

"I believe the teeth marks in your neck were sufficient punishment for now," Snape replied stiffly. "But if you are really asking about the apprenticeship, you should realize I cannot go against a direct order from the Headmaster."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Sir. For everything. It's easier knowing you're protecting me."

He listened to her heels echoing down the hallway until he could hear them no more. Her skin had been cool when he touched it, he thought as he squeezed the handkerchief in his hand. The handkerchief containing the saliva of one Ronald Weasley. It would work better in the small charms he had been casting on Miss Granger.

Small charms. Not really Dark Magic. Just small repulsion charms to keep her disinterested in Mr. Weasley.

Whether or not she came to their future marriage bed a virgin, was immaterial to him. In fact, it might be better if she wasn't one. He had no experience with virgins, but from what he had heard, the first time for a woman was rarely enjoyable for either partner. But he would be damned before she gave it up to either Mr. Weasley or Mr. Potter.

After all, he was protecting her. Just like she said.

LL

**Author's Note:** Okay, back by popular demand and howlers… another installment. Thank you all who have reviewed so far!

Merlin says: "Great magic is performed by those who read; but greater magic is performed by those who read and review.." If this isn't your favorite cauldron of potion, then review somewhere else.

And for those who don't review because "it doesn't matter", it was the reviews left on chapter one that kept the plot bunny alive to whisper this exchange in my ear and add even more chapters..


	3. Happy Christmas, Miss Granger

**Happy Christmas, Miss Granger**

**Standard Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this. I merely rent it, forget to rewind and return it late making me pay hefty late charges.

b d

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape asked coldly. "What is this?" He held the offending article, pinched between his forefinger and thumb.

Hermione stood as if frozen. She had begun her apprenticeship with him the previous June, right after she had taken her NEWTs. Since then, she had learned he really wasn't that different from class. He was still sarcastic and overly-demanding, but the best instructor of Potions imaginable… despite his methods.

As it was now Christmas day and she was about to begin brewing some Pepper-Up potion for Poppy, some could say he was also a hard taskmaster, even knowing it was her choice to be there. But he never worked her to the point of exhaustion after the night she fell asleep next to a simmering cauldron.

Besides, she would much rather be in the dungeons, than upstairs trying to fake an interest in pulling after-supper Christmas crackers with the Headmaster and pretending she was not still in mourning for her parents.

"It appears to be a scarf, Sir," she answered brightly, sitting the jar of armadillo bile down on the work table before she dropped it.

"A scarf, Miss Granger?" he drawled the question in a deceptively soft voice. "I believe I can see that. It also has no traces of magic, so it was hand-knit by Muggle means."

"You can tell that?" Hermione asked, genuinely surprised. "How?"

Snape gave her a quelling look, then snidely answered. "Would you believe it is magic? That I am a Wizard capable of using detection spells?" he asked icily. "You should have learned that as a Third Year in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Oh, yes," he smirked. "That _was_ the year of the werewolf, was it not?"

He laid the black and green striped scarf down on his desk near some student essays he had been marking and sat back in his chair to stare at her. "Well, Miss Granger, I am still waiting for an explanation."

Hermione licked her lips and looked down at the work table surface where her cauldron sat, empty but ready. The ingredients for the potion had been gathered and were waiting, just like he was.

Looking up, she smiled suddenly. "Happy Christmas, Professor Snape." Her smile was as brittle as the lemon drops the Headmaster offered but without the sugary content.

Snape leaned forward, crossing his hands on the parchment on his desk. "How long does it take to make one of these using Muggle methods, Miss Granger?" he asked in a benign tone that usually meant trouble for the recipient.

She sighed. "A few weeks, Sir." He said nothing, only looked at her with his black, piercing eyes. "I only worked on it at night, when I couldn't sleep," she blurted, then flushed as she wondered how he would use this information against her. Perhaps suggesting she wasn't working hard enough if she had so much time on her hands? That sounded… Snapish.

Instead, he surprised her by looking at the work on his desk. "You are having trouble sleeping, Miss Granger?" he asked in a low voice.

Looking away herself, she muttered, "Sometimes." He said no more, so she began the potion, chopping ingredients with a practiced hand until all was ready to add to the cauldron.

Once simmering, she turned the hourglass timer and cast a small charm on it to emit a squeak when the sand ran out, which was the nicest thing about transfiguring a mouse into an hourglass. Well, that and not having a mouse running around. Now she came to the part of potions making she hated, the waiting where there was nothing to do but watch and wait… and think.

"It has been my experience when one gives gifts, it is with the unexpressed desire to get something in return," Snape said suddenly, his deep voice rumbling through the classroom. "So, enlighten me, Miss Granger. What is it that you want?"

"What?" she gasped out in shock as she looked at him.

"Better working hours?" he questioned mockingly. "No, or else you would not be here on your own now.

"Permission to conduct your own experiments?" he continued with narrowed eyes. "Possibly, although I believe even you have the intelligence to realize you are not… _quite_ ready for that step."

Hermione could only stare at him as he went on. "Unlimited access to my personal library?" He laced his hands behind his hair and leaned back again in his chair, this time with a nastily, triumphant smile on his face. "Is that it, Miss Granger? Is that what you want?"

Hurt and anger warred in her for a moment with anger finally being declared the victor. "It's just a Christmas present, Professor," she replied sharply. "Get rid of it if you don't want it."

The timer squeaked and she cut the fire off beneath the cauldron. Pulling the rack holding the empty vials closer and inserting the funnel, she filled them sloppily, as sudden tears blurred her vision.

"And why would you feel the need to gift me this Yuletide season?" came the silky voice from behind her.

So intent was she on her brewing, she had not seen or heard him get up from his desk or move to the back of the classroom. She jumped and spilt Pepper-Up solution on the table where it began smoking.

"_Evanesco_," he said in a low voice and magically cleaned it up for her.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she muttered, closing her eyes and leaning against the table.

"And what are you thanking me for, Miss Granger?" he spat out in a voice barely above a whisper and closer than she originally thought. "Has it not occurred to you that if I were a better spy I would have had information to the attack on your parents _before_ it happened?"

She turned and looked into his dark eyes which were currently blazing at her. "I don't think it's your fault that Vold.." Hermione broke off as he glared at her. They had already argued in the past regarding her use of _that_ name in his presence. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "It's, not your fault that _What's-His-Name_ doesn't trust you. You're doing your best for us all."

Touching his wrist lightly, Hermione said with quiet sincerity, "I appreciate all that you do. If you hadn't allowed me to apprentice with you, I would have been home with them." Her voice breaking, she finished, "But maybe then, _I_ could have helped them."

She turned back to her work station and finished decanting the potion with hands that shook only a little.

"Had you been there, Miss Granger, you would have been killed as well." His hands were suddenly on her shoulders, simply resting there. The unfamiliar touch helped steady her. "However, it does amaze me that you see things so much clearer than half of the Order who do believe I am to blame for our lack of intelligence in that matter."

"It wasn't your fault," she whispered, wanting for a moment for him to pull her close and simply hold her.

"Nor was it yours, Miss Granger," he replied, lightly massaging her shoulders until she relaxed. "It was not your fault you were born a witch. It was not your fault you were born to Muggles. It was not your fault you were not there. It was not your fault your parents were murdered." His hands still and he squeezed her shoulders in a manner that was not unlike a hug, before moving away.

When he returned, she had cleaned up her workstation. Being allowed to do so magically made it so much easier. The vial rack filled with Pepper-Up potion was set next to the other stores of healing excelsiors used by the Hospital Wing. Looking over the stores, Hermione noticed all were filled to capacity, the oldest first and all magically dated and indexed for easier use.

There was, after all, a war coming.

Feeling disappointed there was little else she could do, she closed the door to the storage room and warded it with the familiar wards Professor Snape had taught her when she began apprenticeship six months prior. Hermione walked back into the classroom to double-check her work area. Once, she had left a bottle of leeches still out. Professor Snape made her clean cauldrons without magic for a week for that mistake.

Sitting on the table she had recently cleared, was a small blue phial. She picked it up and opened the top, sniffing at it.

"Rather an unwise gesture," Snape derided from his desk. "It might have been an airborne poison activated by opening the container." He did not look up from the papers he was grading.

"It's Dreamless Sleep Draught," she informed him. "And before you point out that I didn't know that for sure, it says so on the side."

This time he looked up, a mocking smile on his thin lips. "What better way to get you to open it, Miss Granger?"

Hermione laughed.

"It is late enough you could get by with going to your rooms and taking that." He flipped a parchment to the side and began on the next. In a low voice, he said, "You deserve a good night's rest."

"And what do you want for this?" she teased, holding the bottle up. He raised his head to look at her, arching his eyebrow. Suddenly, she was aware of the alternate meaning to her words. Shrugging, she tried to adopt an attitude of nonchalance. "After all, you said people give gifts expecting something in return."

"Tomorrow, we begin making Polyjuice Potion," he replied, looking at her speculatively. "I realize you have had _some_ experience with it." Snape smirked while she blushed. "And we need more Veritaserum. I am _expecting_ you to have a good night's sleep in order to better serve as my apprentice."

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione replied with unaccustomed meekness as she pocketed the phial in the pocket of her apprentice robes. She licked her lips and walked up to his desk.

"What now, Miss Granger," he replied absently, not looking up from the scroll.

She reached into the collar of her robes and pulled out a heavy gold chain with a locket on the end. "Then what did you want for this, Professor? If all gifts have strings attached."

"What makes you think I sent you that bauble?" Snape snapped impatiently.

"Well, you know it was sent for one thing. No one handed it to me," she began in her best Know-It-All voice. "The pictures are a duplicate of the ones I keep by my bedside table. And only you and Professor Dumbledore have access to my rooms.

"But the clincher is the quote on the card. The handwriting was, of course, a charmed quill. But the quote was telling: '_Love and memory last and will so endure_'. I had to look up that quotation and I finally found it in a book of modern Muggle quotes. It's from Humankind: Wisdom, Philosophy & Other Musings by Gene Fowler."

She stopped and looked at him. Snape's hands were laying flat on the desk and he was staring directly ahead. "Weren't you just reading that book a few weeks ago, Professor Snape? So I repeat: What is it that _you_ want?"

Snape turned to look at her, his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. "I want you to grow up, Miss Granger, and become the fine woman I suspect is lurking beneath your adolescence. I want you to survive the war. I want you to continue enjoying brewing potions and becoming a Potions Mistress in your own right. Is that enough?" he listed in a low voice, his gaze never straying from her face.

Feeling chastised, she nodded. "I'm sorry to have questioned you, Professor."

Surprisingly, he chuckled. "Miss Granger, when have you ever _not_ questioned me? You usually pepper meand everyone elsewith questions."

"Thank you for the necklace, Sir. I shall treasure it always." Then, she shocked them both by placing a quick kiss on his cheek before turning and walking away.

When she reached the door, she heard him say, "Thank you for the scarf, Miss Granger. It is… most fine."

"Happy Christmas, Professor," She smiled as if she meant it this time and left.

For a long moment, Snape sat, his fingers idly stroking the wool of the scarf. He had meant for her to figure out who gave her the locket, but he had not anticipated that she would give him a gift. He had to admit to himself that he had been thrown by it when the house-elves brought him breakfast that morning.

A scarf in Slytherin House colors.

His plans were progressing nicely, he thought. He had been scrupulously honest with her from the start. The only part he omitted in his desires of her was marriage. She still had the taint of student on her, though she was growing up remarkably quickly.

He stood suddenly and took the scarf in hand. Wrapping it around his neck, he enjoyed the feel of her labors for a moment. He had not anticipated her doing this, but he decided it was quite nice and fit well into his plans for her.

Looking at the door, he whispered, "Happy Christmas, Miss Granger."

b d

**Author's Notes:** The quote actually is: "Love and memory last and will so endure till the game is called because of darkness." from the above credited source. I don't own that stuff, either.

The plot bunny is so overjoyed at the reviews, he whispered this one to me. Feed the muses! It keeps plot bunnies alive and helps contribute to the production of stories. It really does! This 'one-shot' keeps growing because of them. And if you don't review here, then review someone else's work.

Thank you everyone who has reviewed so far! You all are terrific!


	4. Scheming Snake

**Scheming Snake **

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_**General Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this. I'm making no profit. Yadda, yadda, yadda.  
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**_o0o_**

The winter was finally breaking and there was an expectancy that seemed to usher forth from the earth itself, expressed in greening grass and small, early blooms.

Anticipation was also present in the castle itself, except it was of a more negative quality. Everyone had thought Voldemort would attack before Harry Potter left Hogwarts, however, there had been a surprise raid by Aurors on a suspected Death Eater hide-out. That raid had captured nearly a dozen Death Eaters, three of them supposedly of the Inner Circle. It was suspected that this sudden break in the upper echelon had caused You-Know-Who to change his plans abruptly.

Now it was spring, and even though Harry Potter was in an undisclosed location preparing for battle with eleven other promising ex-classmates, everyone believed an attack was imminent.

Hermione certainly believed that. Whereas she was happy to be apprenticing to one of the most respected Potions masters in the world, she also felt as if she should be preparing more for battle instead of grading student essays or supplying the hospital wing with potions.

Snape had been watching her closely during this time. Her frustration was exhibiting itself in distraction and distraction was always dangerous around potions. However, Snape knew in humans, frustration was the same as letting a potion simmer. Sometimes, it was necessary to get the results you needed.

Perhaps he had let her simmer too long, he thought as he stood in a recess of the library, using a Disnotatio spell and eavesdropped on a conversation between Hermione and Ginevra Weasley. The youngest Weasley was cajoling her friend to go with her on the next Hogsmeade weekend.

"It's Saturday and you haven't had any time off in forever," she whined. "And with Harry and Ron both gone off to who-knows-where…"

Hermione giggled softly, "They're off to who-knows-where to fight You-Know-Who." The dark circles were deeper under her eyes. She felt sometimes as if she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since Christmas. Going to Poppy for some Dreamless Sleep Potion would mean telling her about her problems and listening to the mediwitch's assessment that apprenticing with Professor Snape was just too hard on her right now. And she didn't want Professor Snape to make the same observation, so she couldn't go to him either.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked, concern evident on her face.

Sighing, Hermione closed her eyes and barely shook her head. "I'm tired, Ginny. I'm tired of busy work and feeling like I'm doing nothing. I… I want something to do. I'm so tired of waiting. I just want to get it over with, one way or another."

Ginny squeezed her hand. "All the more reason to go with me to Hogsmeade. I think I'll have a surprise for you."

Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and forced a smile on her face. "That would be lovely, Ginny," she said slowly. It was enough to placate her friend. "I'll let you study for your NEWTs now. I've got some essays to grade for Professor Snape."

Snape watched her leave before he melted back into the shadows. Her walk was listless and her head was down. It was the first time, in his memory, that she left the library without carrying at least one book. Biting back his inner feeling of satisfaction, he realized she was lonely and bored, a dangerous mindset for one as intelligent as she was. He rubbed his left forearm absently. Oh yes, he understood the danger.

His plan was working. Hermione Granger would come to depend on him. Ginevra Weasley would be leaving school in a few more months and Hermione would be even more isolated. Allowing her some fun now would only emphasize that isolation.

As he walked back to the dungeon, he realized the only enjoyment he really had these days was making plans for Miss Granger. Since he had decided she would make a fine wife, he had been studying her more and more and plotting. It was possibly the only occupation he had these days that gave him pleasure.

The Order of the Phoenix seemed to be doing little work, mostly intelligence gathering and their own plotting which he was not privy to. The Death Eaters were becoming more active, striking at Muggle-borns with impunity. His position was still in constant jeopardy due to the Dark Lord's mistrust of him. Yet he was still needed to spy on the Order of the Phoenix. After so many years of teaching, he some days felt as if he had done it all before, even down to the occasional melted cauldron. No, Miss Granger was his only oasis in a sea of chaos and discontent.

_**o0o**_

Later that day, Hermione brought the essays she had finished grading up to him. "Professor Snape, would it be possible for me to go to Hogsmeade this Saturday?" she asked, setting the papers on the corner of his desk. She rested her hands atop the parchments, one over the other.

This was where manipulations turned tricky physical contact. So far, he could keep her mind occupied, but too often, he had the feeling she still regarded him only as the authoritarian figure she had known for the past eight years. As his Apprentice, their relationship needed to become closer. Event though he was still her instructor, he no longer wanted to be thought of that way. No, Snape wanted to be her mentor at this point. From there… well, his plans were well laid.

He rubbed the line under his bottom lip, considering. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione watching his finger move back and forth. It took an effort to not smile, but he had long practice at that.

"Good gods, Miss Granger," Snape said suddenly. "Have you even had a day off yet?"

She started to shake her head, then remembering how he hated that, said: "No, Sir. I haven't needed one since…" _since my parents died_… "last summer."

"Would it be too much trouble for you to drop an order off at the Apothecary there?" Snape asked smoothly. Hermione hesitated, not sure of what this sudden politeness was indicative. Lately he had become more respectful and less sarcastic with her. But that didn't mean you could ever take him at face value.

"I'd be glad to, Sir,"

"If you would be good enough to pick it up Friday after the last class," he murmured, setting his quill down on the desk, his pinkie on his right hand brushing against her fingers. "I will have a list then for you, Hermione."

He made sure he didn't pause before saying her name; it seemed almost an unconscious slip of the tongue. Only a Slytherin born and bred could have said differently. And Hermione was no Slytherin.

Snape looked up, his expression carefully neutral. Taking a deep breath, he looked directly into her large brown eyes which were shining with… happiness, he determined clinically.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," he murmured. "I should not forget formalities."

The light in her eyes dimmed somewhat. "But I've read other Apprentices call their Master by first names and vice versa," she began, but he held up his hand for silence.

"Miss Granger, as my student, we must observe propriety at all times," Snape told her in a voice that brooked no argument, which, of course, meant she had to argue. After all, he had given her the perfect loophole.

"I'm no longer your student, Sir," Hermione said proudly. "I took my NEWTs nearly a year ago."

"Yes, you were quite… remarkable," he murmured, watching the pleasure alight her eyes again. Odd, you go out of your way not to compliment someone and then any small observation of the truth would pleasure them greatly. "I believe you had the highest in ten years."

"Fourteen, Sir," she corrected proudly, then flinched, flushed and looked down.

Deliberately keeping her off-balance, Snape placed his hand on top of hers. "I apologize, Miss Granger," he purred. "But do not be embarrassed by your achievements. Be proud. After all, you keep proving the Dark Lord wrong in his silly assumption that Muggle-born witches and wizards are somehow less than Purebloods." His thumb moved over her hand in a lazy, unconscious caress. With detachment, he noticed how she stared at that and her breathing became ragged.Ah yes, boredom and busywork, he thought gleefully. What trouble that causes in an intelligent mind.

Snape knew he was not a handsome man. However, he was a Slytherin and Slytherins all dearly loved power. Seduction was power, so he had learned to work with what he hadhis voice, his hands, his intellect, and his ability to observe others and see their weaknesses. And he was using that all to his advantage.

He was still congratulating himself on his most successful manipulations of his future wife on Friday, when his NEWT-level Potions class met. Ginevra Weasley was talking with her partner, Margaret Dorcas, before he entered. Their seat was in the very back. He suspected that position was in a desire to be as unseen as possible, which meant he spent a good amount of time touring the back of the classroom.

"Bill's in town and he asked if I could arrange a meeting with Hermione tomorrow," she was telling her friend

"He's still sweet on her?" Margaret asked. "Can I borrow a quill? The point on this one is bad."

"Here, take this one," Ginny said. "Oh yeah, he thinks she's an angel and Ron's a prat. I'm going to have her as a sister one way or the other."

"Well, if he doesn't work out, there's always Charlie!" Margaret giggled when Snape threw open the dungeon door with a bang.

Eyes blazing, he strode to the front of the classroom, his robes billowing more than usual. Taking his place in the front of the class, he glared at his students, especially two young women in the back.

"Today, we will begin brewing the Oblivisci Potion. Miss Weasley, what does this potion do?" He asked silkily. She looked up, startled and speechless.

Smirking, he continued, "What is the matter, Miss Weasley? Did you… forget?"

Those who knew the answer laughed; his four Slytherin students laughed loudest and longest. "Mr. Patterson, can you explain to… the less intelligent members of this class what this potion does?"

"It works like a liquid Obliviate, Sir," Mr. Patterson obligingly replied.

"Very good, Mr. Patterson. Five points Slytherin." He turned back to look at Miss Weasley. "And five points from Gryffindor for being unprepared."

While the students were brewing, Snape sat at his desk staring sightlessly at his inventory sheet. _How many Weasleys will I have to pull off the girl_? he wondered furiously. Once he had thought her virginity was unimportant. However, despite the issue of virgin blood, he found he disliked the thought she would have another man to compare him to sexually.

And Bill Weasley was a curse-breaker. Intelligent enough to stimulate Miss Granger's mind. Not to mention, he was a young stud with tight pants and an earring who could stimulate her in other ways. Bill Weasley was no boy content with pawing her in an alcove. His plan was in serious jeopardy.

Touring the classroom, he managed to take another twenty points from Gryffindor from Misses Weasley and Dorcas for slight infractions. And before they left, he used a quick incantation to move their potion sample to the edge of their desk where it fell.

"I believe that is a zero for the day," he murmured in false sympathy. "And a detention tonight with Filch for your carelessness."

When Hermione came in for his list of supplies, Snape hid it under some essays. "I do apologize, Miss Granger, but I seem to have mislaid it," he told her. "What time will you be leaving for Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Two, Sir," she looked concerned. He had never lost anything before. "Is everything all right?"

"It will be, Miss Granger. It will be."

That night, he thought. He could claim some emergency potion to make and keep her in the castle, but that would make him look bad. Sitting in his wingback chair by the fire, a book unread in his hands, he thought. What could he do to keep her here and make it seem like her idea? Suddenly, he smiled most maliciously as the idea struck him.

Yes, he thought, that will work most admirably.

_o0o_

At 12:30, she came to the Potions classroom, looking for him. Snape was stirring a cauldron and looked surprised when she came in. "Oh, Miss Granger," he said in the voice of one occupied with a problem. "I need you to enter my library and find a book for me Alchemic Solutions for Curses. It should be on the third shelf on the right, second shelf from the bottom if I remember correctly."

"The password, Sir?" she asked with barely contained excitement.

"Scheming Snake," he replied. "And do hurry."

Hermione had only been in his personal library twice before, both times under his supervision, so she had only caught tantalizing glimpses of the books housed there. Quickly, she found the book and took it to him with a regretful look over her shoulder at the knowledge bound behind her.

"Look up the Dreamer's Sleep Potion on page 63 and read the ingredients," he ordered, giving the cauldron one last stir before placing a stasis spell on it. It was merely inert ingredients thrown together, but she didn't have to know that. "Make sure we have enough on hand to make this."

She returned to him shortly. "Yes, Sir, we do. Though we are running low on poppy leaves, we should have enough for two batches."

"Please add that to the list then, Miss Granger," he told her, handing her his list of supplies needed. "Ask the Apothecary to deliver, if you please. Now, I have a meeting to attend. If you would return the book and reset the wards before you leave. When are you going to Hogsmeade?"

"Two o'clock, Sir," she told him, her hands stroking the book's cover. "I'm meeting Ginny at the Three Broomsticks at 2:30."

"Fine, then," he told her, hiding his smile. Time to see if his gamble would pay off. "If you wish to look at the books when you replace that one, the ones that can't be opened are Dark Arts books. Leave them alone."

She looked as if Christmas came early. "Oh, thank you, Sir!" Hermione exclaimed. "That is most kind of you!"

"You are quite welcome, Hermione," he said smoothly, allowing his voice to drop in both volume and tone. At her startled expression, he gave a small smile. "I decided you are quite correct. In private, we should use our first names."

"Thank you, Sir.. Er, Severus," she stammered slightly.

"Sir Severus," he mocked gently. "It makes me sound like a knight."

"In some ways, you are, Severus," Hermione smiled up at him.

"Enjoy yourself today, Hermione," Snape told her before slowly walking out of the classroom. When he glanced back, she was already heading towards his private library and missed the gleaming smile of triumph on his face.

Much later that day, he returned to his private rooms to find her still in his library, a book in hand and one by her side.

"Hermione!" he called out sharply. "Why are you still here?"

Hermione looked up in shock. "Severus, you told me I could look around," she began, but he cut her off.

"That was nearly five hours ago," he told her emotionlessly. "Have you been here all this time?"

She looked panic-stricken. "Your supplies…" she gasped. "I'm so sorry, Sir. I'll run down to the Apothecary's now and place your order."

"No need, Hermione," he said smoothly, sitting on the divan, next to her. "What are you reading?"

In their rather intense book discussion, she quite forgot all about Miss Weasley so the younger girl's anger at her when she made it to the Great Hall for dinner was understandable.

Quite understandable.

Severus hid his smile.

_o0o_

**Author's Notes:** Notatio means notice (Thank you, my dear Latin-English dictionary) so I would assume, disnotatio would be do not notice. And before anyone gets on me about my Latin, try the spell. It does works.

_Also, all the terrific reviews have kept the plot bunny alive. I thank each and everyone of you who have been so kind. And my plot bunny thanks you, too. His life was in your hands. My muse, however, is still insane. Can't have everything, I guess._


	5. Serving Two Masters

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**Serving Two Masters  
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_**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. And I probably shouldn't have taken them out of their boxes to play with because that ruins their collector value. Oh, well.  
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_No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other._ Matthew 6:24

It was odd how that verse came back to him whenever his Dark Mark flared with burning pain. Snape was not raised a Christian. In the tradition of Pureblood families, he eschewed religion. But he had ran across that quotation in a Muggle book once and it stuck with him.

"Hermione," he said quietly. "Please alert the Headmaster. I am being summoned." Quickly, he cast a stasis spell on the Blood Replenishing Potion he had been brewing. He could have told Hermione to finish it; she was far enough along in her apprenticeship to do so, however, if he did, she would be too busy to worry about him. Lately, the Dark Lord had been increasingly angry at Snape. The location of Harry Potter was still unknown and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named thought that lack of knowledge was due to Snape's failure as a spy.

And it helped to know that if he was going to his death at this meeting, someone would be concerned for him.

The look in her brown eyes assured him at least one soul cared. Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, holding back some words, but as he reached the door, she whispered, "Do be careful, Severus."

He looked back and for once, did not have a sarcastic comment to offer. Instead, he took in the picture she made, standing by the cauldron. Hermione Granger would be turning twenty-one in a few short weeks. The stain of student had been removed in the past few months. In fact he had a difficult time recognizing this slim, composed woman as the bushy-haired know-it-all with the constantly raised hand.

Nodding sharply, he walked out of the Potions classroom and went down an unused hallway. Snape could have requested a Portkey to his Apparation point from Albus, however, he used the walk for time to clear his mind and emotions. His Dark Master allowed him a little time from the summons to his actual appearance.

Once he navigated the maze of hallways, he exited the castle through an unmarked door and began walking briskly to his Apparation point where he had hidden and warded his Death Eater garb. At the point, he unwarded a tree stump and gave a complex password. It swung open to reveal black velvet robes, an opalescent white mask and a pair of fine black leather gloves. Snape waved his wand and the hated uniform was on his body. Quickly, he shoved up his left sleeve and touched the mark with his wand, instantly Apparating him to the latest site the Dark Lord had chosen.

"Master," he said in a reverent whisper, falling to one knee, with his head bowed low. It was the right note of obsequious touched with still a bit of Pureblood pride.

"Late again, Severus?" his Dark Master asked, mildly as he came to stand in front of the Potions master.

"I am sorry, my lord," he began when he heard the word "_Crucio_" ring out in the grove. Agony ripped through Snape's body and he fell heavily onto the ground as his muscles contracted in painful spasms. How long he was held under that torturous spell, he did not know. Time ceases to have meaning when one is in a nightmare of pain. Finally, the curse was lifted.

"I care nothing for your pitiful excuses," The Dark Lord sneered. "I want results. Where is Potter?"

"My lord, I do not know," Snape said and tried to relax his trembling muscles. Crucio was harder if one tensed to prepare for it.

Instead, the Dark Lord waited while Nagini slithered towards him. "Go on," his master said in an encouraging tone. "Tell me why you have failed me."

"Only Dumble_bore_," Snape spat out the name derisively, "knows the prat's location."

"And the Mudblood slut?" his lord queried with mock gentleness. "She's one of his closest friends. Why doesn't she know where he is?"

"Master, all correspondence is sent through that thrice-damned phoenix. Dumble_bore_ is the secret keeper and he has told no one." Snape kept his head down, prepared for another dose of Cruciatus curse.

"Do you still treat the Mudblood the same way you did when she was your worthless student?"

"How else could I treat the unworthy bitch, my lord?" Snape murmured bitterly. There was silence for a moment as Nagini began slithering in a circle around them.

Snape felt the weight of the Dark Lord's hand caressing his head. "There is an old saying, Severus, 'one catches more flies with honey than with vinegar.' Do you understand that meaning?"

Snape acted as if confused. "You want me to… be _nice_ to that Mudblood bitch?" There was a trace of incredulousness in his voice by the end of the sentence.

"Are you loyal to me, Severus?"

"Yes, Master, with my very soul."

"Do you love me as your Master?"

"With all my heart, my lord," Snape lied effortlessly.

"If I give you an order that is… unpleasant, would you follow it?"

"Without hesitation, Master."

"Seduce her."

"Master?" Snape asked without thinking.

"Screw the littleslut if you must, Severus. Get close to her and find out all you can." There was a trace of bitter venom in the Dark Lord's voice. "Use her to get to Potter."

Snape paused for a moment, considering his best response. "If that is what my lord desires, so it shall be."

"Good, Severus." The hand was removed from his head and for a moment, Snape thought the Dark Lord would pat him like a dog, but instead he moved away. "Should you fail, I shall have to use other methods." Even though the tone was mild, Snape knew the threat hidden in it. "Go now. Begin to work on the Mudblood whore."

Snape stood to Disapparate.

"Oh, one more thing, Severus," his Dark Master proclaimed. "Train her well and we will all enjoy her when her usefulness is done."

Bowing his head, Snape said, "It will be as you wish, Master," and Disapparated.

* * *

"Oh my, Severus," Albus Dumbledore murmured from behind his desk, a troubled look in his blue eyes.

"I do not know how to proceed," Snape said, allowing bitterness to encroach in his voice. "If I do not pretend to accede to this demand…"

"He will kill you," Albus said simply.

"But she's a child," Snape protested, his voice raising in disapproval.

"She will be twenty-one in a few short months, Severus," Albus reminded him. "And I do believe that is an adult. She should be included in this decision."

"Headmaster," he remonstrated again, but was cut off.

"No, Severus," Albus said firmly. "She has a right to know." With that, the elderly wizard stood and walked to the fireplace. "Potions Lab," he called out after tossing a pinch of Floo powder into the flames. "Hermione, would you please step through and bring a vial of muscle relaxant with you."

"Is Severus all right?" she asked with great concern a few moments later as she stepped through the fireplace.

"I am fine, Hermione," he replied even as Albus was saying, "He was put under the Cruciatus curse."

"Oh my," she murmured as she raced to his side to hand him the vial. Snape took it with a hand that shook slightly. Hermione had uncapped it in her usual, meticulous way, so all he had to do was raise the vial to his thin lips and pour the liquid down his throat.

As he swallowed the vile concoction, his eyes met hers and he was shocked by the depth of distress he saw. For a brief moment, something twisted inside of him. Whether it was his heart, his conscience, or his soul, he did not know. But he found he could ignore it.

Albus ushered her into a chair and told her what had transpired at the latest meeting. Severus sat quietly with his head bowed, watching her through the curtain of his hair.

At first, she went pale, then blushed. Only when Albus finished talking did she look at Snape.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," she said softly. "Would it be any help if I leave?"

"You will be hunted down as soon as word gets out," Snape told her bitterly. "And I am a dead man."

"No!" she said sharply and he could see her mind beginning to work. "Surely the Dark Lord doesn't think this will happen instantaneously, does he?"

"He did specify 'seduce,'" Severus murmured with his head still down. "I am certain I can play this along for some time. Classes are going to start soon. We do have a…" he looked up with a slight twitch of his lips that might be a smile, "somewhat _rocky_ past."

Hermione smiled at him.

"I will allow you some privacy to work out the details, then," Albus said, but shot a sharp glance at Snape.

"Miss Granger," Severus told her before the door shut behind the Headmaster. "I cannot allow you to do this, though." With a click, the Headmaster was gone. "I am afraid you do not understand the implications."

"It's Hermione, Severus," she said firmly, her jaw jutting out. "My name is Hermione. And if I don't play along, they'll kill you."

He slowly raised his head, careful to keep his expression impassive. "I do not believe you truly understand, Hermione," he said in the gentlest tone he could possibly manufacture. "It means… we would have to… be closer."

"I understand, Sir," she said in a low voice. "And it might be necessary for us to be… intimate." This time, she was the one looking at the carpet.

"I understand that thought might be… repulsive to you," Snape muttered, giving some self-loathing to his words.

"Oh no, Severus," she cried with alarm, looking at him horrified. "It's just that…" She averted her gaze before she whispered, "I just don't have much… experience." Then added with some bitterness, "I'll probably end up being a spinster," and gave a short, derisive laugh.

"I would not count on that, Hermione," Snape replied in a soft voice. _No, I would not wager on that, my dear_. he thought to himself. _I shall wed you and bed you, though it might not end up in that order_.

"You are an intelligent, comely witch," he said smoothly, allowing all his Slytherin charm to seep in his words. "I am certain many a wizard would be proud to have you as a wife."

"Please, Severus," she told him, holding up her hand. "I'm a Mudblood. I realize my options are, shall we say, limited?"

He snorted. "Then they are fools and you are better off without them."

"How will _he_ know you're following orders?" she asked quietly.

"The Dark Lord is skilled at Legilimency, Hermione," he said in a controlled voice. "I allow him access to certain portions of my mind, while holding some thoughts back."

"So he would essentially see us together," she mused, then blushed at the implications.

"And he does have his own spies here as well. They would be quick to report whether or not his plan seemed to be succeeding."

"We could stage some dates," she mused. "A few trips to Diagon Alley, perhaps a Potions lecture… dinner?" She looked anxiously at him. "What do you think about that?"

"It seems acceptable," he murmured. "But there may have to be more than a few 'dates.'"

Slowly, Hermione stood and walked over to him in his chair. "If it saves your life, it's well worth it."

She bent down and placed her lips on top of his. Her kiss was innocent, chaste and he allowed it, not responding but not stopping her either. When she pulled back, she looked dejected. "I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't very experienced."

Again, there came that twisting feeling inside of his body. This one was harder to ignore. He pulled her back to him and this time, he controlled the kiss, running one hand through her hair to cup the back of her head. His lips parted atop hers and his tongue lightly traced her lips until she opened to him. As he explored her mouth, he noticed the sweet taste of her, a mixture of innocence and purity. When he ended the kiss and released her, Snape tried to make himself believe the trembling he felt was the after-effects of Cruciatus.

She looked dazed, awed as she raised a hand to touch her kiss-swollen lips. Her eyes were unfocused and he fought the urge to smirk as she swallowed convulsively.

"Are you certain you wish to proceed, Hermione?" he asked, lacing his question with gentle concern. Snape knew he had given Hermione her first real kiss.

"I… I… well, yes, of course," she answered almost absently.

"Then we will proceed with _your_ plan. Perhaps you should return to your rooms and rest," he said, still mastering gentleness in his tone. "I shall stay and finish my report to Albus, when he returns."

She walked slowly to the Floo and took a pinch of powder from the mug. Tossing it into the fire, she said in a low voice, "Hermione Granger's rooms," as she walked into the green fire.

Once she was gone, Snape sat for a few moments thinking. _Yes, Hermione Granger is easy to manipulate with her Gryffindor sensibilities,_ he thought smugly.

When one serves two masters, it is always a balancing act. Even though his loyalties were with Albus, he still attended him as a servant. The Dark Lord lost him years ago. However, even when one serves two masters, there comes that rare occasion when _they_ end up serving their servant.

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_**Author's Notes:**_ _Yes, the latest dish from my rabid plot bunny. Personally, I think he's drinking, however, he did whisper this latest exchange to me. My plot bunnies look a bit down and peaked. Perhaps you'd consider helping them by saying 'hi.' If not here, then feed someone's plot bunnies, please!_

_Thanks to: HPROXMYSOX, Dragosdaughter1, pathatlon, tallgiraffe32, whiteowl, BaskervilleBeauty, urlildevil05, maechan, senshiofTerrah, Slytherin Queen, NigueSnape, BrennaM, SPSB, Susanne Clark, maggieswebb, vanity fair, duj (who doesn't have to review me, but still does), winter Solstice1, and strega-in-progress for telling me that I was not set up to take anonymous reviews. I'm sorry I don't normally thank everyone at the end of a chapter. Your reviews do mean so much to me, but I use voice recognition software and it's really difficult to get all the screen names correct. It doesn't mean I don't appreciate each and everyone of you!_


	6. Waking Up

**Chapter Six**

**Waking Up**

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**General Disclaimer:** Of course I don't own it, though I wish I did. Do you think Jo will let me have Severus Snape? Well, I guess I'll just have to borrow them and return them before their due date.

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Grief comes in many differing forms. For some, it comes with an overwhelming anger, anger that the world would take this from your life. Others feel overcome by depression, some going to the extreme of choosing death rather than living with the emptiness of loss. Few deny what has happened, keeping the same routines as if their loved one was merely gone for the day. Still, nearly all those who have suffered a loss speak of numbness, a deadness that encompasses body, mind and soul.

Hermione Granger knew about the numbness. Having lost her parents nearly eighteen months earlier, shortly after beginning her Potions apprenticeship with Professor Severus Snape, she lost herself in hard work and study. Both were cure-alls in the past. She lived one day at a time, not knowing happiness nor too much sadness, just existing in a cocoon that was devoid of emotion and sensation.

That had changed a month ago when Severus returned from a meeting with Voldemort. His orders had been clear: try to get information from the Mudblood Granger girl using any means possible. In fact, the Dark Lord had ordered Severus to seduce her.

Pumping me for information while pumping into me, she thought with a mental snort worthy of her mentor.

When she was six, Hermione had her tonsils removed in a Muggle hospital. When she began fighting her way out of the anesthesia, she was surprised to find she could struggle a bit towards wakefulness, but would fall back under. But each time, she fought, she came a little closer to awareness until she finally won and came out from under the effects.

The night he had reluctantly told her the Dark Lord's orders, Severus had kissed her. She had been kissed before. Victor and Ron had both kissed her. Even Harry had kissed her once during their Seventh Year. She had felt little with those kisses except a bit of revulsion as she wondered why a boy's tongue was so wet and slobbery.

It had bothered her. Being analytical, she wondered if she was not attracted to boys because she was attracted to girls. Her minority status kept getting her into smaller and smaller groups. From the other children of her age, she was a bookworm. Then a witch. Why not a lesbian? She'd probably, eventually end up in the bookworm-witch-lesbian-who-likes-Medieval-Poetry group by herself and ensure she'd end up alone somewhere with a multitude of cats.

However, from observation of the girls at Hogwarts, she found they fell into two categoriesthose who had bodies she wished she had and those who had bodies she was glad she didn't. Neither group appealed to her sexually, however. The thought of kissing another girl excited her as much as the thought of kissing Ron did.

Hermione decided she would probably end up alone as the bookworm-witch-asexual-who-likes-Medieval-Poetry and still have a multitude of cats. Being logical, she threw herself with renewed vigor into her studies and was shocked when Severus had offered her an apprenticeship. She could be a Potions mistress! And, if this war ever ended with the Good Guys winning, Severus might get the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and she would teach at Hogwarts.

Then her parents had been murdered. The only reason she was alive today was due to the apprenticeship or she would have been with her parents. Perhaps she could have fought back or summoned help, but more than likely her corpse would have been found next to the bodies of her parents. From that day on, the numbness settled on her like a robe made of gauze. No one else seemed to see it, but she could feel it. Lack of sleep; brewing the most boring potions; grading student essays; barely seeing her friends since Ginny took her NEWTS; and the nightmares. All things combined to make the numbness tangible.

Until Severus had kissed her and she began feeling that she was fighting to wake up, to leave that deadness behind. However, in the month since, he had not kissed her again. They had had two 'shopping trips' to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley and one to the Apothecary in Hogsmeade. On all three expeditions, Severus was the consummate gentleman, offering his arm; carrying the packages; opening doors; taking her to lunch. After nearly nine years of sarcasm and sneers (not to mention his bad days), it was almost like being with someone totally new and different.

Someone she liked very much.

But the most he would do is caress the back of her hand or lay his hand on her shoulder. He watched her, however. Hermione realized that quickly. Even now, atnumber 12Grimmauld Place, Severus was in the shadows but every so often, she was convinced he was watching her.

Why?

She still felt tired and mentally sluggish, but sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for the meeting to begin, she began putting her mind to work. After all, she had been called the cleverest witch of her generation; it was past time to wake up from her grief and put that mind to work.

Why would Professor Severus Snape kiss her like that and then barely touch her? Was he just not interested in her? No, that couldn't be it. He was touching her hands now, in private. He had also taken to standing very close to her when working together on a potion.

Perhaps he was merely trying to ease into her comfort level so the next steps would be less unpleasant for her, less of a shock? Hermione discarded that idea. It was hard to believe Severus Snape would be that solicitous unless…

Unless he cared.

That thought drew her up short. Could he care for her? In _that_ way? That idea got dropped also. After all, he was a pureblood wizard according to Which Witch: A Who's Who of the Wizarding World; a renowned Potions master; a powerful wizard in his own right; and he seemed to like most people, especially Gryffindors, as much as he liked Blast-Ended Skrewts.

But why did he take you on as an apprentice if he didn't care? her mind asked. _He's never taken on an apprentice before, in all of his years of teaching_. But she had asked for an apprenticeship, hadn't she?

her mind asked. . But she had asked for an apprenticeship, hadn't she? 

_No, _her inner voice reminded, _he asked you about your post-NEWT plans and you mentioned you would love to apprentice but he didn't take apprentices. _**He**_was the one who approached Professor Dumbledore to make it seem like an order. _

She touched the chain of the locket he had given her for Christmas, an expensive present that was touching in its thoughtfulness. Very out of character for the taciturn Potions master. Not to mention nights she forgot to eat, he would order food for her. True, there was always a sarcastic comment involved such as, "Aren't you glad you were not able to free the house-elves, Hermione?", but that was just… Snape.

Still, there were little kindnesses. He would mark articles in periodicals for her. Not just potions items either, but pieces on charms and transfigurations. Things that interested her that few seemed to have the time or inclination to discuss. Severus loaned her books from his personal library and always seemed willing to talk about what she read. And, after her parents' murders, when the nightmares were the worst, Severus made certain there was a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion for her when she needed it.

It led to one conclusion and one conclusion only. By Snape standards, he was extraordinarily nice to her. And it wasn't just to garner her consent to playing along with the fake seduction because it started long before Voldemort issued his decree.

Perhaps that was why he was not forcing his attentions on her? Perhaps he did care for her feelings? She had to admit that she had been attracted to him for several years now. In fact, it was the night he discovered her with Ron and had taken the time to heal her neck where Ron had gotten carried away with a love bite.

She had wanted to love Ron and she did love him, but only as a brother. There was no passion grand or small with him. On her part, anyway. But a touch of her hand by Severus made her heart skip. If that wasn't passion, then she'd settle for whatever it was.

And perhaps he didn't care for her in that way, well, she might be able to convince him to see otherwise if he were given the proper motivation. Before she could think further on how to get Severus' attention in _that way_, the Weasley clan arrived in full-force.

Ginny greeted her enthusiastically. After her NEWTs, Ginny was hired at the Ministry of Magic as a secretary in the Magical Law Enforcement Division. It was a low-paying clerical job that enabled her to research trends and movements of the Death Eaters while spying on other Ministry workers in a position that was nearly invisible.

It was enjoyable to talk to her friend and soon Ginny's brothers began joining them. Fred and George were the first. The twins had become more somber as the war started becoming more openly aggressive. Their joke shop was also responsible for developing new tools and weapons for the Order. Bill soon came over to sit with them as well. Hermione found herself content to listen and watch as the siblings interacted in a boisterous manner.

"What have you been up to, Hermione?" Bill asked with a grin. He was still a curse-breaker for Gringotts, but used his position to watch the cash flow of suspected Death Eaters.

"The usual apprentice duties," she answered, smiling at him.

"Ah, I remember my apprentice days very well," he told her. "You're doing grunt work. Thankless chores. Mind-numbing monotony."

Hermione couldn't help laughing at his mournful expression. "I'm learning a lot though. Severus is an excellent mentor." She turned and smiled at the dark wizard she knew was watching her. Severus stood with his back to the wall, watching, but she could tell by his stiff posture and the blazing of his black eyes that he was furious. Quickly, she turned back to Bill and asked what he was doing.

She listened with half an ear while Bill talked about the latest cursed objects he had been working with. Severus was angry and she knew it was because she was talking with Bill. It was ridiculous because she didn't have feelings for him or any of the Weasley boys. They were too much like brothers to her. Yet she couldn't stop thinking Severus was jealous.

Okay, maybe I'm deluding myself, she thought. _But would it be wrong to check this theory?_ Bill, she knew from stories his sister told, was a natural-born flirt. _Why not let him flirt with me? I don't have to encourage him, just not _discourage _him._

she thought. Bill, she knew from stories his sister told, was a natural-born flirt. discourage 

As she was listening to Bill and the Twins, she placed her hand on Bill's to get his attention to ask him about the spell he used to disarm a locked box. He quickly offered to show it to her and before she knew it, she was standing with Bill pressed against her back, directing her wand movements. His hand was over her wrist as he taught her the incantation for Dark Magic dispersal.

Albus walked in at that moment and was greeted by several members. He made his way to Severus and spoke in a low tone but three words carried throughout the kitchen of Grimmauld.

"The Dark Mark"

Instantly, conversations stilled as everyone in the room turned and listened to find out who had been lost this time. Hermione sat down quickly, trembling, as Albus turned about and looked over the stilled room. "The Collins house," he said sadly, his eyes not twinkling, but filled with an expression that was both hurt and enraged. "The Collins girl is missing. Her parents, however…" Albus looked at Hermione and his voice trailed off as she felt grief for her own parents strike suddenly.

"I will see what I can find out," Severus said in his deep voice, his countenance set. "However, Miss Granger will need to be escorted back to Hogwarts, Headmaster."

"I'll see she gets there safely," Bill volunteered, placing his hand on her shoulder. Severus gave a small snort and turned back to Albus.

"Perhaps an Auror?" he suggested silkily, dismissing Bill's offer.

"They are at the Collins' house, Severus," Albus said slowly. "The ones we can trust. But rest assured, Hermione will be taken care of."

For a moment, it appeared that Severus would argue, but with his jaw set, he merely nodded and took his cape from the peg on the wall. He was stalking off, tossing his cape around his shoulders before anyone could react.

"Martha Collins was in my year," Ginny whispered.

He's leaving angry, Hermione thought. _He can't be using Occlumency if he's angry._ Shrugging off Bill's hand, she raced up the stairs after him, ignoring the startled looks of the other Order members.

Hermione thought. Shrugging off Bill's hand, she raced up the stairs after him, ignoring the startled looks of the other Order members. 

He was just opening the door to leave. "Severus, wait!" she called out.

For a moment, he paused with the door half-opened, then he slowly closed it and turned to face her. Giving an irritated glance to the draped portrait of Mrs. Black, he motioned her into the parlor.

"What is it, Hermione?" he hissed. "I am in rather a hurry. A young woman's life is at stake."

"Please, be careful, Severus," she said, shakily and couldn't stop tears from silently forming.

"Perhaps you should follow your own advice," he said in a nastily low voice. "And avoid Weasley males unless you have the proper contraceptives."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't care about them," she whispered in anguish. "I want you to be careful."

He pulled her to him roughly and took possession of her mouth in a kiss that was more an outlet for jealousy than physical ardor. But for Hermione, she felt only her own passion and parted her lips as felt his tongue brush against them. She kissed him back, touching her tongue to his and melting against him. When he withdrew, she could feel his anger dissipating like fog in the morning sun.

Severus raised his hand to her cheek and brushed the tears away. "I will be back," he whispered. "Remember that." Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes glittering strangely triumphant as he turned and walked out of the room. She heard the front door open, then close as she stood there, in the darkness and wondered exactly what she wanted from him.

And more importantly, what did he want from her?

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**Author's Notes:** _Before you ask, yes, he is coming back. No, he hasn't been killed. I know now how this will end, I'm just not sure how we're going to get there. _

Just a reminder that this is a series of vignettes in the relationship of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. I'd like to point out for everyone who thinks reviewing doesn't mean anything, this is the sixth chapter of a one-shot. The reviews keep it, and the bunny, alive. And I thank each and every person who has taken the time to review. You have no clue what it means to me.

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**Alezzandra** Thanks for reviewing! I'm not sure what you're doubtful of, but I hope some of your questions are answered in this chapter.

**vanityfair** I know this was a bit of cliché, but it was too tempting to have Dumbledore and Voldemort both agreeing to something Severus wanted. Not only agreeing, but ordering it. Can I be forgiven? Of course, you've read it on Ashwinder so you know I probably won't change it now. But I have another story on Ashwinder and one on Occlumency which are being written and I would value your input.

**Panthation** You have some great ideas! And I've got some evil plans. :-)

**duj** There is no way I can top that poem! Thank you!

**Jzeylyn R., moviebuff101, strega-in-progress, Slytherin Queen, BaskervilleBeauty, Natsuyori, Jaxxine, Lindsay, lyss1o9,tallgiraffe32** Thanks!


	7. Another Side

**Chapter 7**

**Another Side**

_**Disclaimer:** If you really think that I am J. K. Rowling, then I'm really worried about you._

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Waiting.

Waiting was probably the hardest thing to do, Hermione decided. Severus had left several hours ago to try to discover what had happened Martha Collins and, if she were still live, to try to rescue her.

Albus Dumbledore had returned Hermione to Hogwarts almost as soon as Severus left, much to Bill's chagrin. Sleep was suggested by the Headmaster. But Hermione knew she would not be able to sleep until Severus returned. It was ominous to note he had not been summoned, yet he was still prowling around and would be asking questions of the other Death Eaters. It was a dangerous activity. Should Voldemort become too suspicious of the Potions master's questions, it would mean the end of Severus.

And so, Hermione instead went to the Potions lab and checked over the stores to see if they were low enough on anything to justify making it. Eventually, she decided the Skele-Gro was low enough and she set up her cauldron to begin brewing a batch.

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Severus Snape strode quickly through a hidden passage waving a stretcher before him. It took only a few moments, but he felt as if an hourglass was trickling the sand faster and faster. There were two bodies on the stretcher and he bellowed for Poppy even before he reached the doors of the Hospital Wing. Poppy rushed to open the doors and helped guide the stretcher in. 

"Two of them, Severus?" she asked with concern. "Is one of them…"

"I believe so," Severus bit out. "It is rather difficult to tell."

Poppy moved each of the bodies to their own bed and began running her wand over one girl, doing diagnostic magic. "She's under stasis?" Poppy queried, a frown appearing on her face.

"They both are," Severus snarled. "They would have died otherwise."

The mediwitch did not point out that they could still lose one or both of the girls just by bringing them out of stasis. She knew Severus would never have done this unless he truly felt it was necessary.

He moved off to the fireplace and performed a quick Incendio. With a pinch of Floo powder, he made a fire-call to the Headmaster. Albus informed him, he would be down momentarily. Next, Severus fire-called Hermione. Instinct told him she would be in the Potions lab. His instinct prove him right.

"Hermione," he ground out, "bring four Medi-cases to the Hospital Wing immediately." Severus did not wait for a verbal response, pulling his head out of the fireplace and returning to Poppy's side. "What do you want me to do?"

"I've got this one, I think she is the worst off," Poppy told him. "You can start with that one. She has three broken ribs on the right side and I fear her lung is punctured."

For several moments, they worked in silence trying to repair the injuries the girls had suffered. Poppy realized there was so much damage that without the stasis spell, neither girl would have made it to Hogwarts. Hermione came in then with the Medi-cases. It had been her idea some months prior, to make up cases similar to Muggle first-aid kits. However, these kits contained potions that could almost bring a person back from death. They were also shrinkable, ensuring every member of The Order of the Phoenix was able to carry two of them at all times.

"Leave the cases and go," commanded Severus. There was no reason why she should have to see such carnage.

Hermione set the cases down and open them, beginning to hand out potions. Severus shot her glare and inwardly seethed. _Couldn't she see that I'm trying to spare her this?_ It was bad enough that he had had to see it, to have to pretend to revel in the destruction of another human being.

"Hermione, I will need four vials of Blood Replenishing potions," Poppy ordered. "And some Skele-Gro."

The young witch withdrew several vials of the Blood Replenishing potion from one pocket and some Skele-Gro from her other pocket. She looked at the two young girls anxiously.

"Why aren't they breathing?" she asked hesitantly.

"I used a stasis potion," Snape snapped. His irritation at her questions was obvious. He looked up and saw her quizzical expression. "Really, Hermione," he said sarcastically. "_You_ do not remember the First year speech? Brew fame, bottle glory and…"

"Even put a stopper in death," they said the line together. Busy as he was, Severus was secretly pleased that she said it in the exact same vocal intonations as he did.

"Very good, Hermione," he said softly and noticed Poppy's startled gaze. Severus bent his head and began working on the girl.

Albus walked quickly into the Hospital ward. "Severus, I am glad you are safe." He looked towards the young woman Poppy was working on. "I see you found Miss Collins." His voice was grave.

"Lucius Malfoy was celebrating his release from Azkaban," Severus said bitterly. "These two girls were part of the entertainment." He began casting a spell to heal broken ribs.

"Any idea who the second girl is?" Poppy interrupted.

Severus shook his head. "I believe she is a Muggle, but I am not sure," he admitted. "I felt I had the best chance to save these two."

Hermione gasped at the thought there were more he could not save. She wondered how such evil madmen could be allowed to flourish in the world. And caught herself wondering how much of it Severus saw--or worse, had to participate in, simply so that the Order of the Phoenix could be supplied with information. She glanced at him just as he was looking up at her. His jaw was set and she knew he could see the sorrow in her eyes.

The Headmaster began assisting in the healing of Martha Collins, who in far worse shape then the poor unnamed Muggle. Eventually, Severus stepped back and said, "I've done all that I can for this one."

Poppy nodded. "I believe we have done all that we can for Miss Collins, too."

From his voluminous cloak, Severus produced a battered potions case. He unwarded it and took out two tiny vials of a red potion. Wordlessly, he handed one to Albus. Hermione knew it must be the antidote to the stasis potion. It crossed her mind what an incredibly brave, risky thing Severus had done by slipping the potion to each of the girls and placing them in stasis.

Gently, the girls' mouths were opened and the reviving potion was poured into their mouths. Hermione watched in silence, barely breathing, as Severus held the Muggle girl in one arm and tenderly rubbed her throat with his long fingers. There was a slight feeling of unreality to the scene, Hermione thought. She would have thought the Head of Slytherin would carry his House's prejudice against Muggles. But from the look on Severus' face, at this moment in time, saving this girl's life was the most important thing he would ever do.

It was then, Hermione knew she could love this man. It wasn't the kindness he showed her, or his jealousy, but the fact he would go to any trouble to save an unknown Muggle girl. The Muggle girl was one who swallowed first, and came back to life coughing and sputtering.

The girl opened her eyes and glanced around fearfully. Albus spoke to her quietly and told her she was safe now.

"Dreamless Sleep potion, Hermione," Severus commanded, holding out his hand without looking at her. Hermione placed the vial in his open hand wordlessly and watched as he coaxed the young girl to drink it.

"M-my m-mother," she begged him, her hands clutching at his wrists.

In a tone that was unrecognizable of that of the Potions professor who terrorized his students, Severus softly told her that they were being looked after and she needed to drink this medicine. Hermione was not surprised see the girl did. As soon as she began drifting to sleep, Severus eased her back on pillows and drew the blankets around her. Quickly, he moved over to the Collins girl and asked after her.

"She's breathing but still unconscious," Poppy answered him. "I think it's because of her head injury, but I won't be able to tell until that has had a chance to heal."

"You have saved two of them, Severus," Albus said gently.

"And I left more to die," Severus ground out as he closed his potions case and re-warded it before returning it to his pocket.

"You cannot save everyone, Severus," Albus reminded him. "Because of you, these two girls will live."

Severus turned to the sleeping forms and sneered, "Will either of them be thankful in the morning when they wake and find themselves orphaned? Will they be grateful I left others of their family there to suffer and die? Or will they curse me and say they would rather be dead?"

"Once they realize what you've done," Hermione interjected firmly, "they will be grateful."

"So you say, so you say," Severus derided her opinion. "It has been my experience that people are rarely appreciative that you have allowed their family to die." He turned and stalked out of the infirmary, his black cloak billowing behind him.

"I don't understand why they let him leave with the girls," Hermione murmured to herself. But Dumbledore heard her.

"Severus routinely tells the Death Eaters that he needs body parts for various potions," Albus explained. "In that way, he is allowed to walk through the survivors and choose his 'victims'. He can usually escape with one or two that way."

Poppy looked up from tending Martha Collins. "But Severus only remembers the ones he cannot save," she said, looking grim.

"He seems to forget that there are many people who owe him their very life," Albus said stroking his beard.

Hermione stared at the doors the Potions master had left through. As usual, she was thinking extremely hard, barely hearing Albus and Poppy's discussion on when they would Obliviate the Muggle girl and how to turn her over to Muggle authorities.

If you would asked her while she was still a student her opinion of Severus Snape, Hermione would have said he was a strict teacher, sarcastic, but still deserving of respect. Lately, she had been seeing quite a different side of him. Hermione realized his interest in her surpassed a Mentor status and how it must had galled him to be ordered by Voldemort to seduce her. She had assumed his reluctance to touch her was due to his prejudice. She was, after all, a 'Mudblood'.

Now, after seeing the lengths to which he would go to save an unnamed Muggle girl, Hermione wondered from where his unwillingness came. Could it be that he was being a gentleman? Did he simply not want to force her?

After seeing this other side of him, Hermione decided to give him a little more time, but not long.

She was tired of waiting.

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**Authors Notes:** Yes, the infamous plot bunny has spoken. I am so grateful this story has garnered so many terrific, loyal readers! Your reviews keep this alive. It started out as a one-shot and has grown, thanks to you. I would also like to make some special thanks here to my two Angels who spent a good deal of their money on Dragonspeak Voice Recognition Software for me. It has become increasingly difficult to type and with this software, I am able to continue telling stories and keeping my plot bunnies happy. Thank you both very much! As always, please feed the bunnies. Thank you all!

And QuickEdit hates me...


	8. The Waiting Is over

**Great Plans**

**Chapter 8: The Waiting Is over**

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_**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling, but you can still have my autograph. Sorry, that was just a Gilderoy moment._

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Severus Snape was a puzzle. 

No, Hermione decided. He was worse than a puzzle. Puzzles had solutions, answers. Severus was an undecipherable enigma. As often as her mind drifted back to him, she could find no rhyme or reason for his behavior.

While they were students, Professor Snape was the bane of their existence, superseded only by Voldemort. Yet, despite his dislike for them, he risked his life time and time again to save them. He was a loyal member of the Order, yet, he had been a Death Eater. He would take his chances on saving those he could, including Muggles, but he didn't seem concerned with saving his _own_ life. He had been ordered by Voldemort to seduce her for information or his life would be forfeited, yet all he would do was kiss her goodnight.

She couldn't figure him out. Was it because she was a Mudblood? Did he not find her attractive? Did his interests lie in... _other_ areas? Or, was it some other reason beyond her ken?

Not that she was complaining about his kisses, mind you. Severus Snape was thoroughly skilled in the art of kissing. That was a thought she would wager that the students of Hogwarts had never entertained. That man could kiss better than anyone had a right to.

Their nightly exchange had progressed to a set formula. He would walk her to her room and stop her when she gave the password to enter. As the door swung open, she would look up to meet those fathomless, black eyes and he would slowly drop his gaze to her lips, then back to her eyes. His hand would move to the back of her head, controlling her movements and he would brush his lips against hers, almost as if giving her time to protest.

The second kiss deepened; his lips more demanding as they parted and the tip of his tongue swept against her mouth. Her lips would open then and he would taste her, and she him. What would follow were several long moments of pure, unadulterated snogging. The kind of activity about which he would make cutting remarks and deduct a large number of House points, if he had caught it occurring between students. Just when her hands would begin pulling him closer, he would break the kiss and stare at her intently for a moment. Hermione could never read the emotion in his eyes. In a remarkably even (though deep and sexy) voice, he would bid her good evening. Then he would leave, black robes billowing behind him, apparently neither realizing nor concerned that he'd left her in a puddle of desire.

As many times as Hermione turned this puzzle called Severus Snape over in her mind, she was still no closer to a solution.

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He was in an excellent mood. It was Christmas hols and having no classes to teach cheered him. Contrary to popular opinion, Severus did not hate teaching or his students, but being a Death Eater and a spy for the Order in addition to teaching were too much of a strain for one man to handle. Not to mention, spending every bit of his "free time" plotting the seduction of his apprentice, cut into his time. 

The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her. In the Potions lab, she was a gifted assistant and seemed to anticipate his needs. In the classroom, she was now teaching first through fourth years and excelling. Not to mention, she took over the tedious essay grading for all but his OWL and NEWT classes. Could he be blamed for constantly wondering how she would be in the bedroom?

However, Severus was discovering something he had not anticipated: he wanted _her_ to want _him_. It wasn't enough that he could manipulate her into allowing him into her bed. If that were the case, he would've manufactured a need for Virgin's Blood and allowed her Gryffindor sensibilities to step forward. Once in her bed, he was convinced he could show her enough pleasure to be allowed back, however, he wanted her to _invite_ him in. He wanted her to choose him and he wondered why he was developing a conscience this late in life. It was most inconvenient.

Whenever he was summoned, she would be in the lab, waiting for him to return. She kept Medi-cases with her constantly and included special potions to deal with the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. He had never wanted anyone fussing over him before, but found her ministrations were not as unwelcome as he had expected. On occasions in which he would return unharmed, she would pour him a snifter of brandy and sit in blissful silence, never questioning him.

He had asked her once, "Tell me, Hermione, you constantly ask questions. Yet you never ask me about the Revels. Why?" Severus knew by asking, he was opening a Pandora's box--she might feel free to begin asking.

"Because I don't believe you really want to tell anyone," Hermione answered, giving him a long look. "But if you should, I would be willing to listen."

It must have been the brandy. Or perhaps it was too many nights without sleep. Maybe he was worn down from being a pawn for both sides, constantly provoked by both masters. Or he might have been spoiling for a fight, needing an excuse to rant and rave, a reason to express all the emotion he was forced to bottle inside. But he found himself asking, "Do you really want to know?"

"Do you really want to tell me?" she asked quietly. "Because if you are brave enough to live through it, I can be brave enough to hear it, if it will bring you any sort of ease."

That _twisty_ feeling he occasionally felt around her, happened then. He was seated in his armchair and she was curled up on his divan with her feet tucked underneath her. The only light came from the fireplace and she looked so young, but so desirable, that he wanted to take her then and there on the Oriental carpet. Instead, he escorted her back to her room and kissed her.

She was a weakness and he had excised other weaknesses from his life as neatly as a Muggle surgeon. But he found himself unable to excise _her _- the only light in his darkness. He no longer wished to manipulate her by making kind gestures, though his motivation was still as selfish. The sight of her smile was addictive to him, and realizing he had the power to make her happy. Too much of his life had been spent on making people miserable, but her… he could make _her_ happy.

As usual, they were in his private laboratory which was much more work-efficient than the school lab. That laboratory was intended as a classroom and this workspace was designed for experimentation and more in-depth study of potions. There was equipment here that his seventh year NEWTs students would be hard-pressed to identify.

"In just a moment, Hermione, I will need you," he informed her in a low tone as he watched the last few grains of sand trickle down into the bottom of the hour glass. By a prearranged signal, she opened the door to his custom-built Dark Cabinet and stood with a timer in hand. The Dark Cabinet was a cupboard that had been bewitched to block out all air and light. The preservation spells were costly to obtain, and as he was a Potions master of a school rather than a research facility, he could only justify owning one.

As the last grain of sand fell, he cut the heat to the cauldron and covered it. Wearing his dragon hide gloves, Severus quickly carried the cauldron to the Cabinet. When he shut the door, Hermione set the timer for 169.5 hours.

"Now we wait." Even as he said it, he knew his words were unnecessary and he mentally sneered at himself for stating the obvious. He was doing that often lately, using empty words to fill up the space. Looking around, he was not surprised to find that Hermione had already cleared the rest of the lab. As an apprentice, she was truly exceptional. She would make a fine Potions mistress one day.

_Ah, if only she would make a fine mistress to the Potions master_, his inner voice chuckled ruefully. But he didn't want her only for a mistress; he wanted her as his wife.

"I believe we are finished for the night," he continued. "I shall accompany you back to your room now."

After warding the door to his private laboratory, he walked with her through the dungeons. When she was a child, Hermione chattered constantly, asking questions. Now that she was an adult, he wished for her to talk, but did not know how to encourage her to do so. They proceeded in silence to the portrait of Lucretia Borgia. Hermione gave the password and stood looking at Snape expectantly as the portrait opened

He always paused before kissing her, giving her time to refuse or turn away. She hadn't yet, but Severus always made certain he gave her the option. Their first kiss would be one of promise, light and teasing. It was always in the hallway, just in case any of the Dark Lord's spies were hiding. Severus despised public displays of affection but he loathed even more having to use Hermione in this way, though she never complained.

The second kiss would be the one in which he allowed his passion for her to surface. He would taste the sweetness of her innocence and it would soothe his parched soul. One hand would be caressing her head through her thick but silky hair, and the other would be on her shoulder. Severus never allowed himself to go further, or he would forget his resolve that she must freely give herself, and give in to the temptation that constantly tormented him. Hermione had to offer herself willingly in this last, but final step between them.

She never did.

Looking into her eyes and seeing the trust she had for him, Severus would turn away from her and quickly walk away before his resolve shattered. She never called him back or ever spoke of it the next day.

That night was no different. Hermione gave the password and he kissed her twice as the orange, furry, overstuffed pillow she called a familiar raced passed them. And again, looking into her eyes, he could not continue. Severus could not abuse the trust she had placed in him. He had manipulated her to this point, but she would have to take the next step.

Releasing her, he turned on his heel and began walking away when her voice stopped him.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" Her voice was steady, but he heard the undercurrents of uncertainty.

Severus returned to her. "If I come in, I will expect more than tea," he warned her in a low growl.

Once again, Hermione surprised him by smiling. "I was hoping you would." She took his hand and led him into her room.

* * *

They continued in this fashion for several months--associates by day and lovers by night. Technically, Hermione still had a year to complete her apprenticeship, but she was moving rapidly into the area of theory and was beginning to map out her first original project. While his life still had to be lived within the confines of the Order and Voldemort, Hogwarts was an island of stabililty within the midst of chaos. Severus found himself wondering what would happen if they both survived and could continue tandem teaching. He found himself dreaming that once Voldemort was vanquished, Dumbledore would seriously consider him as a candidate for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Hermione would become the new Potions professor. 

His hopes and his dreams, his schemes and his manipulations, kept his spirit alive. After each Dark Revel, he would return to find Hermione waiting for him anxiously. Severus discovered he enjoyed holding her while he slept. He also found out that she was a demanding lover at times, but equally giving.

He was as content as he had ever been with his life. And then it was over. The defeat of Voldemort was more anti-climatic than anyone had ever anticipated. Severus himself had thought it would end with a fierce battle on Hogwarts' grounds, and he had dreaded it coming to pass.

With the help of a few locator charms, Harry Potter, Aurors, and the Order of the Phoenix Apparated into a gathering of Death Eaters. Potter had cast a curse he had been learning on Voldemort, killing the Dark wizard while trapping his spirit inside the dying body. Severus tossed off his mask and robes when he heard the multiple crackles of Apparition from behind him. It was simply a matter of stunning the remaining Death Eaters and taking them into custody. There were surprisingly few injuries on either side.

It was the summer hols and Severus returned to the castle alone, leaving Hermione in the arms of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The winners were still congratulating each other and removing the stunned Death Eaters for trial. But Severus was still in shock that there had been no Final Battle. He had never been certain he would live this long. So he lost himself in introspection.

She was young. She was fearless. She was one of the most talented students in all disciplines of magic that he had ever seen. And he knew that he loved her. He had never met anyone else quite like her. Yet he had spent years manipulating her to rely on him and to trust him.

Love, he discovered, was not the emotion he had always thought it was. If you loved someone, it did not make you weak. It was his love for her that made him strong now. He made his way to his office and began writing. Once finished, he blotted the parchment carefully and duplicated it for his records. She had not returned yet, so he tucked the folded missive partially behind the portrait of Lucretia Borgia and returned to his rooms.

Hermione found him there an hour later. He had spent the hour thinking, and hoped his resolve would stay strong. She deserved her freedom.

"What is the meaning of this, Severus?" she asked, holding the parchment up.

Severus eyed her coolly. "Have you lost your ability to read?"

"You're certifying me as a Potions mistress a year ahead of time." She looked at him with hurt in her eyes and he turned away, unable to look at it. "Why?"

"Because you are ready."

Hermione argued with him then, reminding him she still had not finished her independent project. She told him of all that she wanted to learn. Finally, she began to cry. "I don't want to leave you, Severus. I love you."

Eyes blazing, he turned to her. "How can you say that when you never had a choice? Our 'relationship' was based on an order of Voldemort's," he sneered. "Or have you forgotten that?" Severus forced himself to remain expressionless and stand there as tears rolled down her cheeks. Hermione fled.

He sat for the longest time, staring into the fire and wondering why he had to love her. Life was much simpler when he merely desired her. She was young, however, and would recover from this heartbreak. Severus doubted that he would. But there was no doubt in his mind that she deserved better. The stigma of being a Death Eater would stay with him for the rest of his life. People would always whisper and talk about him. She did not deserve to have a husband who was always viewed with mistrust.

Deciding to retire, unsure he could sleep without her close to him, he got up and through force of habit, checked his ward stones only to find that someone was in the classroom lab. He had to investigate; too many rare ingredients were stored there. Wand in hand, he waved the door open and slipped inside.

Hermione was working over a cauldron, adding some dried beetle skins. When she stirred it three times counterclockwise, he realized she was making a Blood Replenishing Potion.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded harshly. "Did you not understand what I said earlier?"

She laid down her stirring stick and stared at him defiantly. "I understood it _too_ well," Hermione told him, placing her hands on her hips. "But if you think you can run me out of your life so easily, then you have another thing coming." She turned her attention back to her workstation, cleaning up after herself as always. When the timer Hermione had transfigured from a mouse squeaked, she reduced the heat to allow the potion to simmer, as it would have to do for the next three days. Marking the time into her Potions Journal, she turned to face him.

"If you want to get rid of me," she explained firmly, "you will have to hex me, drag me from this castle, and Obliviate me on the other side of the gates. And I should warn you, I will fight back and I'm pretty good at that foolish wand waving." She had the nerve to give him a cheeky grin as she flicked her wand and said, "_Evanesco_," and cleaned the rest of the work table.

Severus could only stare at her and she walked up to him and ran her hands across his chest up to his shoulders. "I love you," she said determinedly. "And I've got a year left on my apprenticeship to make you love me."

If he were noble, he would push her away. He would explain the he was neither a nice man nor an easy man. He would try to talk her out of it. Instead, he drew her into his arms and sighed in contentment.

"Are you certain?" Severus asked her. When she nodded into his chest, he gently demanded that she answer him verbally because he did not wish to hear her head rattle.

"I'm certain, Severus," she answered. "It's you I want. You are the one I love."

"You had best be certain, Hermione," he cautioned, holding her more tightly. "I love you too much to ever let you go. Will you stay with me forever?"

Her arms tightened around him. "If you're asking me if I am willing marry you, the answer is yes. If you're asking me simply to stay with you, the answer is still yes."

So began the life of Severus and Hermione Snape, a love that was rooted in war and bloomed in peace.

* * *

_**Authors Notes:** Lucretia Borgia, 1480-1509 AD, is reputed to have murdered by use of poison. I would say she was pretty adept at Potions. Only her status as the illegitimate daughter of a Pope seems to have kept the witchcraft accusations away - that and the fact that people who stood up against the Borgia family tended to die rather messily. I'm sure the Wizarding world would look upon her differently than the Muggle world. In fact, I am certain the Malfoy family is related to the Borgia family in some way._

_Once again, my eternal gratitude to__Karina __for her work as Editor. She is far more than a Beta._

_This is the end of "Great Plans" the one-shot that you kept alive with your reviews. I know a lot of people wanted me to take this to a higher rating. After much consideration, I decided to leave it as my only PG story to date. Come on! I have to have something to show the relatives. To all those who left such fantastic reviews, I thank you and the bunnies thank you. As always, please feed the plot bunnies, if not here than somewhere else. Thank you all!_

_I'm not sure if or when I will find someone who can edit my other work which is NC-17 in nature, so if I do not see you here, I shall still be at Sycophanthex!_


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